An Unfortunate Event
by Qween of the Damned
Summary: ...With PLT and all, Angua knew once her day began to go badly, and it would and could only possibly get worse.


Angua tried telling Commander Vimes that even though she'd been working hard after the whole Koom Valley incident, she didn't want—or, need—time off. Of course, Mister Vimes refused to listen, and Angua found herself walking out of his office with express orders to leave the premises and go and do something other than copper work.

It was a clear crisp autumn evening, and just as she took a huge wiff of fresh air, the world was flooded by that oh-so-perfect, disgusting vampire smell.

"Angua, gods, I thought I'd missed you! Look, I was wondering, since Commander Vimes gave you the night off, if you'd like to join Cheery and me—we're headed over to pick Tawneee up. You heard about her and Nobby, right? I mean, it's for the best, because, well, this is Corporal Nobby Nobbs we're talking about, but still, the poor thing is so cut up. We're taking her out drinking, since last time was such a success. So, do you want to come?"

Angua simply stared at the vampire for a few seconds, trying not to breathe. She realized that along with her hair that was probably a mess by now, her mouth was hanging open. Sally called what had happened last time a _success_? Was she smoking garlic or something?

"I," said Angua articulately, "I have, um, plans." This was not necessarily a lie. Going home and falling into bed with nothing more than a good book was a plan.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun!"

The one word Angua never wanted to hear. It was worse than a bloody curse. Right now, it was worse that uttering a bloody curse in front of Lady Sybil. As her eyes narrowed, Sally's eyes widened.

"Ah. Yes. I forgot your aversion to fun," she said in what might well have been mockingly humble tones.

"I _do not_ have an aversion to fun," Angua muttered, becoming more and more aware of her hair that was probably standing on end by now. "Tonight I just can't have any. I'm busy."

"Oh? What are you doing?" Sally asked, rather tartly, Angua thought.

But, the wer-wolf was saved replying, because at that moment, Captain Carrot, with his god-like proportions and all, came out of the Pseudopolis Yard's Watch house door.

"With him," Angua muttered, and stalked away from Sally. She missed the small smirk the vampire wore as Angua joined Carrot.

"Save me," unfortunately, were the first words that made it out of her mouth, and she blamed it on the fact that there was still vampire lingering in the air. "I mean, get me away from the damned vampire. Please."

"Angua, you know she's only trying to be friendly—"

"Yes, but Carrot, can we forget about that for now, and just remember that I don't really appreciate her friendliness at this time of the month, alright?" And that shut him up as he smiled and took her arm and led her away from work and all its troubles. It was, Angua felt, turning out to be a rather good night.

-o-

It was, Angua felt, exactly an hour and thirteen minutes later, turning out to be a terrible night. She and Carrot were currently seated in a lovely (so the waiter kept telling them) restaurant that overlooked the river, and since it was quite dark out, one could easily imagine that the river was a nice thing to look at. But that was not the problem. The problem was the words coming out of Carrot's mouth.

"—What I am trying to say, Angua, if you haven't quite caught my meaning yet, is that I think I lo—well, I mean, I think I, um, really, really, _really_ like you."

And with that, Angua very much regretted having listened to Sally about the satin green dress she was wearing (a copper had to get out of their police clothes, otherwise how would anyone know they were off duty?), because in all the time that Carrot and Angua had been in a relationship he'd never gone and said this, because, she was beginning to think, she'd never gone and worn _this_. It was a ridiculous dress in any case.

"I," said Angua, "I." That seemed to be as far as her tongue was willing to take her, because her mind was trying to register the fact that Carrot had just told her he really, really, _really_ liked her, and just before that there'd been a bit that almost sounded as if he had been about to say (gods forbid) love, and why on earth did he want to say any of this, but then again, she was ecstatic, and could almost feel her tail wag because he liked her, which meant she'd been a good dog, and _damn_, thought Angua, damn the bloody moon because I can't think clearly!

"I'm sorry if I've offended you or something," Carrot said, and she realized that she'd been quietly arguing with herself for a rather long time. She sighed, and gave a small smile.

"No, Carrot, I'm sorry, I just…well, I mean, it's rather, well, sudden, and I just need a little time to think, alright? I'm going to go. Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful. You're wonderful. But I just need to think. Goodnight." And before he could stand and say goodbye to her properly, she was out and gone, down the road, and heading to a place that let her think. She followed her nose, but for decency's sake decided to keep her clothes on.

-o-

"An' he bluddy said he likes me, but I'm sure it was…" there was a pause for her to wave her hand drunkenly around in the air, "love involved." There were several sympathetic nods, and Tawneee blew her nose on a hanky.

"That's so sweet," she said, and downed another shot of something that they'd all forgotten the name of.

"I think that Cap'n Carrot should *_hiccup_* propose," Cheery began, but was shushed from the other three women, one of whom said:

"Rubbish because that wouldn't be very…opportune. He can't even say…looove, all he can say is…liiike. Who gives a rat's hin'quarters about like?" Sally realized she was speaking rather loudly, and glanced around the bar, but most of it was already quiet, and had been that way since the four females had come this way three hours earlier. Angua had followed Sally's scent until she found them, and they'd been bar-hopping since, and then she'd told them _why_she'd come looking for them, and they realized they all needed stronger drinks than Screaming Orgasms, and so they had the dubious bottle in front of them, and none of them really felt like going anywhere anymore, not even Tawneee, who could hold her own against the most avid drinker…

"I think," began Angua, "that I should tell him I'm a little afraid of—wazzicalled—commitment."

"No!" Sally banged her hands on the table, "no, no, no don't tell him that. Men—" she broke off, wondering if the word could be applied to Carrot "—have a stereotype to fulfil. They're the ones who are afraid of commitment. Not us, we're supposed to be…" she was waving her hands around in the air again, trying to find the word.

"Damsels in distress?" supplied Cheery.

"Clingy and whiney?" asked Angua.

"Very female?" wondered Tawneee.

"Um, I think something like those." Sally sighed and threw back another shot, watching as the barkeep filled it up again.

"Gods, where did I go wrong?" Angua dropped her head on the table, feeling a clawing in her chest that had nothing to do with PLT. It wasn't that she didn't like Carrot. She did. And not just the wolf part of her liked him. He was so kind, so loving—not just to her, to everyone, and he was gentle and considerate to her, he didn't judge her… "I really, really like him," she moaned into the tabletop.

"What? I didn't hear you," Cheery said, trying to lift Angua's hair out of the way.

Angua didn't reply. She just let herself stay that way for a little while. How would this change their relationship, in any case? Now that he really, really liked her—what? Was there a ritual that needed completing, a small god that needed pleasing, or, gods forbid, an announcement that needed to be made? She groaned, and stood slowly, squinting through what was already beginning to be a powerful headache.

"What the hell did we drink?" She got no response, so she focused on walking, glad that she had kept her boots on, regardless of how they looked with the dress. At least there wasn't any heels to worry about. Waving vaguely to Sally, Cheery and Tawneee, she left the bar, and stepped out into the street. The air helped less than she'd hoped it would, and she wobbled along, muttering to herself.

"Ah, Sergeant Angua, I was waiting for you for quite some time, I was hoping to get a word—"

"Ha, a word, de Worde?" She turned to see the reporter standing in the shadows, notebook in hand. Damn it, not now, her brain wanted to scream at him. Just not now.

"Yes, well, you see, long have the rumours been that there's a wer-wolf in the Watch, and, well, I'd speak to Captain Carrot himself, but he's always a bit busy."

What? Angua's brain asked itself, Carrot? Wer-wolf? Some part of her pieced together that de Worde still didn't know _she_ was the wer-wolf in the Watch.

"I thought I'd speak to you since you and he are, well, quite close, and I hope you are not uncomfortable with sharing with the public the species protecting them…" his sentence faded at Angua's growl. They were going to bring this damn thing up again, were they? The bloody press had nothing better to do, just muck up everyone else's lives, because really, how much good would a column on the Watch's wolf do? It wasn't as if everyone really knew—they _knew_, but it was the kind of thing your brain shut out because it just didn't want to _know_. And it hadn't been too long ago that there were those protesters outside the Yard demanding to know why all manner of species looked after public safety. But, Angua's brain screamed now, I am not dangerous. I can keep it in, and I even _pay_ for the damned chickens! I'm not only an animal, because what animal _pays for the chicken!?_

Angua realized very belatedly that William de Worde was staring at her open mouthed, pencil frozen, and that she had said all this out loud.

"I…see," said William, looking down at his notes. "It happens every once in a while that a reporter loses his notebook. Tonight is one such night." With that, he tossed the small book into the gutter, where it was washed away by the awe-inspiring gutter waters of Ankh-Morpork When she looked up from the street, William de Worde was already disappearing into the night mist.

"Wonderful," she said, and turned to go home.

Then she stopped. And turned. And headed to Pseudopolis Yard, where Carrot would undoubtedly be again. He was always there.

-o-

"I need to talk to you," she said, ignoring the looks she was getting from some of the officers. Carrot followed her outside.

"Are you alright?" Carrot asked when they were alone in the lamp lit street.

"Yes. No. No, I'm not. I mean, I'm…" She stopped pacing, and turned to face him. He was holding her gaze steadily, and he looked very serious, and trusting, and… oh gods, what if she ever hurt him? She was half animal, after all…

So, simply because she realized that she really, really, _really_liked him, and there were no words to actually tell him that sufficiently, and because what was life without the risks, and if they'd managed so far without her hurting him…

Angua kissed him.


End file.
